


A Wing and a Prayer

by AZlegends, cinnamon_owl



Category: Original Work
Genre: Centaurs, Demon, Detective, Detective Noir, Dragons, Magic, Urban Fantasy, angel - Freeform, noir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 20:52:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9256835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AZlegends/pseuds/AZlegends, https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamon_owl/pseuds/cinnamon_owl
Summary: Osriel Castillo and Moira Woods run the Castillo detective agency. Together they protect humans and supernaturals from each other and themselves.





	1. Moira

**Author's Note:**

> This is a writing exercise known as Chainmail Chapters in which each participant takes turns writing each chapter. Taking control of the others characters and introducing conflicts each chapter. We have no idea how long this will go on or if it will be any good but in the meantime enjoy the journey with us.

_ Voices. Cries of anger and fear. Sharp, brief claps of explosive thunder. A flash of metal and clang of a blade. The wind roared and the air chilled. There was a moment of dread followed by a burst of searing white light and then- _

 

           Moira sat up with a gasp, heart hammering in her chest. Her eyes darted around the dimly lit room of her aunt’s tiny two story building. Every hair stood on end, the back of her neck bristling like a porcupine as she slowly shifted in her bed, letting her legs dangle over the edge as she continued to peer into the darkness of her room as if she was expecting something to suddenly jump out at her. She stood up after a few deep breaths, her legs still shaking from the dream as she trudged across the room, down the hall and into the bathroom she shared with her aunt. She opened up the taps to run the cold water and could hear her aunt stir in the other room. The young woman cupped some water in her hands before splashing it over her face a few times. She twisted the taps shut, moving them slowly so the old pipes wouldn’t clang and wake her aunt. Her hands rested on the edge of the porcelain as her eyes flicked up to her reflection in the mirror. Tired mossy disks looked back at her. She stood there for a few seconds, half expecting her reflection to blink and launch her into a new nightmare.

 

           She grabbed a towel from the rack and not so gently patted her face dry, a heavy sigh making her shoulders heave. Tossing the towel back onto the rack she slowly wandered back to her room to get dressed for the day. Might as well, since it wasn’t going to be long before the walking feather duster was up and about in his office. She quickly tossed on a loose, breezy outfit and slipped on her work shoes. She ran her fingers through her hair to tidy the messy locks, one hand darting out to open her bedroom curtains and let in the dim, grey morning light. Outside the city of Port Edward was covered in a layer of fog, the sun just starting to peak over the horizon. Sometimes she missed the mild fall weather that one would get farther inland. The sight of the chilly early morning cityscape was enough to make her shiver. With a flick of her wrist she closed her curtain again and turned to leave.

 

           The floorboards creaked as she made her way down the stairs and into the lobby of the building. At one point the building had been a shop with a living space. When Moira’s great great aunt Catherine bought the building, she changed the main floor into a set of offices, the larger of which was used for Catherine’s board meetings and events she hosted. It was an old building, despite the various renovations that had been done over the ages. Moira wondered if her aunt kept the rustic, creaking elements simply for the aesthetics of it all.

 

           Light glinted off the crystals of the chandelier in the main office as the woman made her way into the kitchen to make some coffee. She poured the water into the machine and opened the tin of coffee ground, a sigh escaping her for the second time that morning. The scoop clanked around in the empty tin.

 

           “Wonderful.” Moira mumbled as she set down the tin.

 

           She grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil, jotting down a brief note saying she was going to the store. She tossed on her beige pea coat and a scarf as she left, peering into the secondary office at the base of the stairs only to find it empty. Well, at least this gave her some time before he finally arrived for work. As she opened the front door a cold gust of wind threatened to wrench the door from her grip. She shoved the door shut and locked it, muttering a few choice words under her breath towards whatever sky-based entity decided that today was a day for strong, frigid winds. She looked down the street at the corner store. Ten minutes. That was all the time she would need to spend in the cold.

 

           The heels of her sneaker almost clacked as she moved briskly down the sidewalk towards the tiny shop, the wind gusting up behind her and tossing her hair into her face. By the time she arrived at the corner store it looked as if she had been standing in a wind tunnel.

 

The shopkeeper looked up and chuckled. The older gentleman leaned forwards, his elbows resting on the counter, “You look like some bats decided to roost in your hair.”

“This was not what I was expecting when Auntie Catherine said that Port Edward was famous for its fresh breezes.” Moira grumbled as she smoothed out her hair and walked over to the stack of coffee tins near the front counter.

“Hey, it wakes you up though.” The man winked.

“Oh yeah. Nothing says good morning like Jack Frost nipping at your nose.”

 

“Don’t worry, missy. Your big city skin will toughen up soon enough.” He teased as he rang up her purchase, “Two fifty.”

 

Moira fished the coins from her pocket and handed them over before scooping up the tin again. She grimaced as she looked outside at the trees swaying in the wind. The shopkeeper bid her good luck as she stepped out of the shop and started back home. She was just about to cross the street when she noticed a woman across the street staring fixedly at a something a few yards to Moira’s left. Moira glanced to her left and noticed an odd figure trudging up the sidewalk, their hands stuffed into their pockets and a grim look on their face. Moira turned slightly, just enough to look at their eyes. Her pupils dilated as sensations and images flashed through her mind.

__

_ Cold metal, right hand. Desperation and money. An old cash register and the surprised gentleman who owned the corner store. _

 

           Moira glanced away quickly and slowly sucked in a breath. The grim man walked past her and into the store, the bell above the door jingling to alert the shop keeper. Moira turned and saw the man leaning over the counter, his left hand starting to pull free from his pocket. Without a second thought she jumped forward, pulling the door open and stepping into the shop again. The man in front of the counter paused, a small pistol pointing at the frightened shop keeper’s torso.

           “What the hell do you want?” the grim man scowled. He flicked the barrel of his gun at her dismissively before pointing it back at the shop keeper, “Get lost.”

 

           “Put the gun down.” Moira stated calmly.

 

           The man glared at her, turning so his pistol was pointing at her now, “I said get lost. Don’t make me shoot you, girl.”

 

           Moira fixed her gaze on the man’s eyes, her irises giving off a faint glow as she spoke, “No. You won’t. Don’t you remember? You came in here by accident. You were supposed to be out finding legitimate work.”

 

           The man’s features froze before twitching into dazed and confused expression. He slowly nodded, “Right… Right. Work. I came here for…”

 

           “To give me your gun. You said you didn’t need it anymore.” Moira stated quickly.

 

           The man nodded, and made a sound as if he had just remembered something obvious, “Yes, right! Thanks by the way!”

 

           Moira took the gun, “Forget about it.”

 

           The man paused, “About what sorry?”

 

           Moira turned her gaze away as she hid the gun in her pocket and walked past the man. The stranger stood there for a few seconds looking dazed before the shopkeeper finally spoke up, asking if he was okay. The stranger jolted as if he’d been woken from a dream, “Huh? What? Uh… Sorry… I need to get go’n.”

 

           Moira and the shopkeeper watched as the man left and the woman who had previously been standing across the street entered the store. Moira glanced at the woman, who gave everyone a curious once over before going to one of the back aisles.

 

           The shopkeeper whispered a thank you to Moira. She moved so she was leaning over the counter slightly as she pulled the pistol out of her pocket, a hand gripping the barrel. She squeezed down on it, the metal melting just enough at she could press it shut. “Hey, you’re going fishing this week right?” She asked casually, moving the handle toward the shop keeper.

 

           He glanced at the gun before quickly grabbing it and slipping it under the counter, “Yes. I figured the boys and I could get one more round of fishing in before it got too cold.”

 

           “Sounds like a good idea. Try to keep warm though, okay? I don’t think the missus would be happy if you caught a cold.” She smiled.

 

           “Ah, don’t you worry about me. It’d take more than a chilly breeze to get me sick.” The man laughed. He lowered his voice as he pat her arm, “Really, Moira. Thank you.”

 

           “Don’t worry about it, Douglas. Take care.” She smiled in return before leaving again.

 

           Moira had just managed to cross the street when the woman from the store rushed after her, calling for her attention. Moira glanced back, turning to face the woman as she jogged over. The woman held up a small silvery coin, “I think you dropped this when you left.”

 

           “Oh? Thank you.” Moira said, slightly confused as she accepted the quarter sized coin. No sooner did the coin hit her palm, a searing jolt of pain shot up her arm.

 

           “You okay?” the woman asked, taking a step closer.

 

           Moira attempted to grin nonchalantly, her hand slipping into her pocket so she could release the coin, “Yes. It’s just very cold out.”

 

           “You sure? You look a bit pale.” The woman stated, her eyes narrowing slightly, “Maybe you need some iron in your diet?”

 

           Moira’s eyes widened as she met the woman’s gaze. She narrowed her own eyes, her irises glowing slightly, “Who are you?”

 

           The woman chuckled dryly, “You don’t need to use magic on me. It won’t work that easily.” She pulled at a delicate chain around her neck and revealed a small medallion with a cross emblem on it.

 

           The glow drained from Moira’s eyes as her blood ran cold.  _ A hunter? Here? Why?  _ She took a step back, her wounded hand shooting up to reveal tiny flames dancing around her fingers. The woman drew a gun and aimed it at Moira.

 

“Care to see which is faster?” The woman arched a brow.


	2. Osriel

An early morning fog clouded the dense city streets making the roar of the urban jungle vanish into a stillness that could only be found in a graveyard. The buildings were nothing but ancient monuments to long forgotten societies. Ones that would return once the fog lifted. Port Edward stood tall in its stillness.  

A single man dared to walk the empty streets. He walked with a swagger of a man whose mind never drifted further than his thoughts, and his thoughts never drifted further than the task at hand.  His hands were buried deep in his pockets, while his head nestled deep in a blue scarf.  The bitter cold nipped at his nose and cheeks and painted his sun kissed skin with strokes of red.  But no smile adorned his lips. No jolly attitude that was said to come with the season. Just down cast eyes with hard brows and a line across his lips that could cut a brick in two. 

He was chasing a rabbit so to speak- A burst of aether pulsating through the living plane. The kind of aether that could only belong to one thing, a demon. Demon’s didn’t normally manifest on the living plane, so when they did there had to be something afoot.  Osriel knew a few tricks, and ways to mask himself from demonic detection, but they were all only temporary so he had to work fast to get to the demon before it slipped away. 

He turned a corner and pulled off his gloves before stuffing them into one pocket and taking his cane in one hand. The crystal embedded handel shimmered a soft blue with the presence of aether. He was getting closer.  It wasn’t until he turned the corner did he realize exactly how close he was.

 

Not twenty feet away stood the smouldering black whisps of a portal. Like the remains of a large fire, with no sign to where the demon had gone. 

 

“Fuck.” Osriel breathed as he knelt down by the portal. He reached out and passed his hands over the wisps. They were colder than the wind and passed through his hand like a spirit. No human would be able to see them, they would only feel it. It would be a cold spot in the alley for a few more hours before eventually it would fade away and all signs of it lost.  He wasn’t human however, and the portal was just as real as the sun and earth to him.  He had seen many over the years, each one belonging to a demon, each one carrying the marks of their masters.  

This one however carried a mark he had seen before, one he had hopped to not run into for a while. 

 

“How’s it going Ozzy baby?”  Whom ever had said it wasn’t in front of him. It took him a moment of scanning the dumpsters and fire escapes on the buildings beside him before he realized the demon was behind him. He stood up and turned to the being.

It prowled down the alley behind him like a seasoned predator. It’s long curly dark hair covering one if its red eyes, while the other looked him square in the face with a longing he didn’t care for in any creature. 

Osriel stared it down for what felt like an eternity, disgusted by its attempt at a human guise.

 

“What do you want?” He finally said as he pressed his cane into the ground. His knuckles visibly going white from the force.

 

“Just what I always want darling.” The demon winked as it approached on long lanky legs with a  swagger that might have made a human's jaw drop, “Your end of the bargain.” 

 

“You’ll get it when I have no more questions to ask, Menticordon.”

 

“Please Osriel. We know each other better than that, call me- ”

 

“I’ll call you demon, Demon.” 

 

“Well aren’t you an angry one today.  What woke up sweet little Osriel on the wrong side of the couch today? You do still sleep on that rotting couch in your office don’t you?”

 

“ Cut the chit-chat demon. You haven’t bother with the contract before, why come crawling to me now?”  

 

The demon, slithered up next to him and stretched a long lean arm over his shoulder as if they had been old friends. Osriel knew the demon couldn’t hurt him.  Demons were creatures of habit; no matter how much they seemed to say otherwise, and Menticordon was tied to Osriel with a contract so steeped in law, the demon could do nothing about it. All he could do was answer any questions Osriel could throw at him, no matter how much he tried to wiggle out of it and tried to pretend he didn’t know.  Osriel had magics on his side. Some more ancient than anything one of the fallen could conjure up. Let alone a little spinner of words like Menticordon. 

 

“I have-” The demon was about to speak but froze on the spot. 

 

“You know the drill. Only the truth.” Osriel reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a smoke as he watched the demon fumble over its words. Then he lit it with a small silver lighter from his other pocket.

 

“God’s damned servant you are-” The demon’s face went red as the words continued to break. It sulked back and away from Osriel, it’s white scarf twisting around its form. 

 

Osriel looked at it with a raised eyebrow, not an ounce of care to any of his other features.

 

“Fine Osriel. Section 4 subsection 12.7.”  The Demon huffed and crossed its arms. A black mist materialized between them.  Osriel watched as parts of the mist burned white hot and formed letters. He eyed it, recognizing it as their contract. He wondered what mess was about to be brought to light as he waited patiently for the Demon to continue. 

“Should the one hundredth and first year of our contract come to pass without fulfillment of the contractee’s terms, a span of three days or seventy-two hours of dismissal or halt of the contract will be granted to the contractor. In this time all restrictions on the contractor’s actions will be removed. While Section 3 will still be in effect. Then Section 2 and everything dealing with well- My half of the contract would be as if you had fulfilled your end of the bargain for those three days.”  The demon clapped its hands together and nestled them next to its bare cheek as it spoke with a toothy grim.

Osriel cursed himself for forgetting about that subsection. But he wondered why the demon was even bringing this up. The contract hadn’t just been beneficial to Osriel. The damned demon had stakes in it too.  “Why are you bringing this up? 

 

“Well with the contract on hold. I’m at a bit of a loss, seeing as Abaddon is still out looking for me. You know since you haven’t exactly gotten rid of him yet.”

 

“I’m working on it.” 

 

“Well since you are so forthcoming about it. I hope you won’t mind sharing that nice body you have there.” It winked.

 

He froze from the words. Completely unsure if he had heard it right or was the body he was in actually just failing. Either options were not encouraging. So when he spoke all that came out was a solid, “What?”   
  
“Oh you know. I’ll just hide around and pretend to be you for a few days. I’m sure your little secretary won’t even notice.” 

 

“No I heard you! I just couldn’t believe my ears. What makes you think I’d agree to any of this?”  Osriel stepped up to the demon and pointed the handle of his cane to its throat.

 

“Well. Physically you can’t do anything about it. Section 3 being still in effect and all. Mentally, if you try to stop me, I’ll just tell that faerest little girl of yours the truth of... well… angel eating habits, I suppose. You have informed her you are an angel after all?” 

 

Osriel said nothing and dropped his cane to the ground. There was absolutely nothing he could do about it. A contract was a contract, his hands were tied and Menticordon held the reins. The  Demon must have read something in his face for it smiled. 

 

“You haven’t!” A deeper laughter then Osriel would have thought radiated from the creature, “Well would you look at that. Seems that I’ve backed you up into quite a corner now haven’t I? You could almost say it was-” It paused savouring the dreadful moment as it took in it’s nails like the world rested on them, “ A win.” 

 

Osriel stared at the creature transfixed by the absurdity of what ever had just passed between them.  He really wished his memory was better, or at least that the frail human body he was living in had better memory storage.  He gritted his teeth, “Fine. But you keep your mouth shut on angels and demons.  You can only control the body after hours . Meaning no random butting into my cases. No sex-”

 

“Yes sex.” 

 

“Fine. But No orgies! No drugs and No getting me killed!”

 

“I can live with that.”

 

“ 72 hours right?” He gritted his teeth and spoke with a hoff to his voice. He then pulled his felt fedora down over his eyes. He was already regretting every choice he ever made with this fucking demon.

The demon approached him and put a hand on his cheek.  Their touch as cold as ice. “Don’t worry Ozzy baby, it’ll all be over soon.”  With its words the demon’s guise turned to black dust and radiated over his skin with a harsh cold touch.  The black dust cling to anything it could turning to ice with each passing moment before melting into him.  He hated it. Hated the constricting thoughts and the narrowing of his senses as the new entity bloomed in his subconscious and tried to take up as much room as possible. 

 

_ Can you just stop having thoughts? There is already not a lot of room in here.  _

 

“Shut up demon.” He narrowed his eyes. Then reached down  and picked up his cane, “You can stop having thoughts when it's your turn.”


	3. Fire and Flame

_ Of all the damned people… _ Moira clenched her jaw, her gaze shifting between the hunter’s face and their gun. She really hated the bastards. They were bad enough in the bigger cities where they could have whole large scale societies. That didn’t make their work any easier though. At least in the busier cities the police could easily crack down on supposed nutjobs shooting up people because they were ‘demons’ or the like. You didn’t get that same protection out in the quieter cities or the suburbs. Hell, towns in the countryside could be dangerous if you didn’t live in a predominantly non-human, Folk, area. One of Port Edward’s blessings was that Folk society blended in fairly well with the normal human society that existed there. The Folks, an umbrella term that not all the races liked, lumped together the Faerest, Beast Folk, Angels, and even Demons. 

 

Usually the Folk were more of a threat to humans than human could be to them. The Hunters were a completely different case. Hunter societies had formed in the early ages of human society to hunt down supernatural beings either because they caused trouble or because it was believed that their existence was a blasphemy. The Hunters of religious orders tended to be the most dangerous, or so Moira found. The Hunter standing before her was a prime example of that. Bold and brazen, willing to hunt down a Folk in the middle of the street during daylight.

 

Moira’s eyes shifted slightly to see if anyone else was around to see the encounter. The streets were empty as far as she could tell, the only person around being Douglas but he was busy organizing the shop for the morning. Moira narrowed her eyes as her mind raced. The Hunter’s mind was out of her grasp, but maybe there was still hope.

 

The Hunter fired their gun as Moira took a step back. With a reflexive twitch of her hand the air in front of her roared to life with white hot fire, enough to melt the iron bullet before it hit the coffee tin that she held up in a weak attempt at a secondary defense. The Faerest dropped the tin and pushed both hands forward, sending a wall of burning hot air at the Hunter and sending her flying into the middle of the road. Douglas, who had been standing in the doorway after he heard the gunshot, darted back into his shop and dove for cover.

Moira rushed forward, tackling the Hunter as she tried to get up. The Faerest grabbed the Hunter’s gun, her fingers wrapping around the gun’s barrel as it melted shut. The Hunter kicked Moira off, giving up on their gun and reaching for their knife. The Hunter raised their blade and moved to stand over the Faerest before she could get up, “Any last words?”

 

Moira’s lips curled back in a dark snarl as she looked up at the Hunter. Her snarl slowly melted into a wry smirk as a figure appeared behind the Hunter. The figure tapped a finger on the ornate top of their cane as they looked down at the Hunter and Faerest. Moira chuckled, “Hello.”

 

The Hunter arched a brow, “What?”

 

The figure raised their cane and brought it down on the Hunter, giving them a swift bop across the noggin. The Hunter’s eyes rolled back as she dropped her weapon and collapsed onto the road. Moira took the opportunity to scramble over to the Hunter, placing her hands on either side of the woman’s head as her irises began to glow. The Hunter’s mind was much easier to access now, like an open door inviting everyone inside. Within a few seconds Moira had the woman’s short term memory erased. After a minute the memories of ‘hunters’ were foggy at best, more like memories of faded dreams than anything else. 

 

Moira sat back  and took a deep breath as she let go of the Hunter. She felt incredibly tired. Thugs were easy enough minds to manipulate, but Hunters and trained minds were something completely different. Those took force and control. Moira had to be able to force her consciousness into their own, but not so much as to break their minds. It was a rare gift, but it was a terrifying one if you didn’t train yourself properly. You risked either breaking someone else’s mind or your own. She was thankful that her aunt had been able to train her to use that set of abilities.

 

She looked up as the tall figure picked her up by her arm, calm gold eyes looking down at her curiously, “Well, you handled that better than your first Hunter.” He looked at her hand, noticing the circular burn mark, “Iron?”

 

Moira flushed, “I thought it was a quarter.”

 

“Where is it?”

 

“Right pocket. Can you take it?”

 

The tall man nodded, bending down slightly so he could fish the iron coin from her pocket with a gloved hand before tossing it into a drain on the roadside. He glanced over as the owner of the corner store peeked outside. The tall man nodded at the shopkeeper, “Might want to call the police. It seems this woman fainted and smacked her head in the middle of the road.”

 

Douglas shook his head quickly before running back inside to grab the phone, leaving Moira and her tall companion to make their exit from the scene. Moira scooped up the coffee tin, pleased to find that it was still intact. She waved a hand over the still hot iron splattered on the side of the tin, watching as the heat dissipated from the metal. She mumbled about covering it in duct tape or something so none of them burned their hands trying to grab it in the future.

 

She looked up at the tall man, head bowed as they started walking down the sidewalk towards her aunt’s place, “Thanks for saving me again, Osriel.”

 

The man grunted, “Don’t worry about it. What was that Hunter doing here?”

 

“Same thing they are always doing. Hunting us ‘abominations’.” Moira hissed, “Seems like their Order is trying to spread out.”

 

“Any reasons floating around that skull of theirs?”

 

“Not enough game in the cities. Now they are moving out of the cities so they are less noticeable and able to move about more freely.” She replied with a frown, “Guess they are trying to take advantage of superstitious Humans who aren’t jaded by big city living and politics. Clever fucks.” She kicked at some of the fallen leaves piled up on the sidewalk, “I might just start taking offense that they are moving in on my turf. Mind fuckery is my schtick.”

 

_ She’s feisty. _ The Demon’s voice cackled in Osriel’s mind.

 

“Looks like people are going to have to be on guard. I’ll warn Lafayette next time I visit his bar. He should be able to spread word around pretty quickly so people can watch out more.” Osriel stated, trying to ignore the Demon.

 

“Good idea. I think Douglas is going to spread the word too. Poor guy looked terrified. First the thug, now the Hunter.” Moira mused, “I should bring him some of Aunt Cathy’s cookies or something… Or alcohol. Alcohol is good.”

 

The pair entered the house and found it silent. Moira let out a small sigh of relief that the gunshot hadn’t woken up her aunt. That was going to be fun to explain. Moira excused herself to go and prepare the coffee while Osriel got settled in again.

 

The Angel hung his coat on the wall, grabbing a cell phone from his pant pocket. The small device left him confused at times. He understood the whole ‘press buttons, speak into the device’ aspect, but the applications were another issue. Several map applications, news applications, two internet icons… He wondered why mortals needed anything so complicated. He used it mainly for keeping in touch with contacts in and around Port Edward, and even some across the continent. Of course he also used it incase Catherine called to tell him to pay his damn rent or so Moira could call him about any new cases that came in while he was out.

 

Osriel barely looked up as Moira entered the room and began flipping through some folders with unfinished cases. She idly rhymed them off, giving him a refresher and a status report on each case. Osriel attempted to listen but was distracted by a voice in his head.

 

_ She’s a tough one, isn’t she? _ The Demon inquired. Osriel could sense the Demon’s mental grin as the Angel attempted to block him out.  _ You know what I love about the Faerest? Their tenacity. Tougher than Humans, but still weak compared to our kinds but hoooo boy are they scrappy! I shit you not I saw one punch a possessed Human so hard that it knocked the Demon out of them. Fucking funniest thing. Pity they aren’t as easy to possess. _

 

Osriel’s eye twitched and his jaw clenched as he tried to mentally silence the Demon.  _ Aw, come on. It’s funny. I bet your secretary hits like a mach truck. The way she sent that Hunter flying… She should open her own aviation service or something. Heh, I’d let her set me on fire- _

 

“Shut up.” Osriel hissed sharply.

 

Moira paused, looking back at him with a sour look, “Well, fuck you too.”

 

“No, no- It’s…” Osriel held up his phone, “This thing keeps vibrating every time I get spam.”

 

“Didn’t you block those numbers?”

 

Osriel was silent.

 

“You forgot how.”

 

More silence.

 

Moira sighed, setting down the files as she walked over and swiped his phone. She turned it so he could see the screen as she ran through the steps for probably the fifth time. She handed him back the phone, “Geez. This is why you need a partner. If you didn’t have me you’d be lost.”

 

“I work alone.” Osriel stated flatly.

 

“Yeah… Right… And how’s that been working out?” Moira arched a brow.

 

“I’ve saved you twice now and I have been solving cases in Port Edward.” he retorted.

 

“Cases that I’ve helped you on. Who read that drug lord's mind and helped you track down a Folk who was trafficking Humans? And who saved your ass from that gang of Warlocks?”

 

“You burned down a barn!”

 

“Yes, but I also burned their tomes and instruments so they couldn’t be fuckheads and cause trouble for the farmers anymore.” She stated, “And no one died, so it’s all good.”

 

Osriel pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging away a headache, “There are times where I wonder if you have any Dragon in you.”

 

“That’d be pretty sweet.” Moira grinned.

 

The pair looked up as Catherine came down the stairs. The woman peeked into the office and smiled at the duo. Her dark chocolate brown hair was swept back into a neat ponytail and she was dressed in a smart blouse and pencil skirt, looking every bit the professional business owner. While she didn’t control Osriel’s agency, she did control most of the housing in the Port. She looked good for some two hundred odd years old. Any Human would place her in her forties at most. She had managed to live and work in Port Edward all her life. Whenever someone began to wonder how she stayed so young she would play with their memories so it seemed like she was a new owner taking over from the last woman who ran the business.

 

“Good morning!” Catherine smiled sweetly, “How is everyone this morning?” She paused as she looked at her great great niece. She caught Moira’s tired gaze before the woman looked away. Catherine’s voice took on a concerned tone as she moved towards her niece, “Are you okay, dear? You look really tired.”

 

“I didn’t sleep well.” Moira explained.

 

“And she ran into a Hunter.” Osriel added calmly.

 

“A Hunter?” Catherine gaped as she took hold of her niece, “Are you hurt? What happened?”

 

“I am fine, I swear!” Moira said quickly, “Osriel knocked her out and I wiped her memories.” She cleared her throat, “Uh… I put tape on the coffee tin because there’s some iron on it.” She shrank slightly under Catherine’s stern, searching gaze, “I melted the bullet the Hunter shot.”

 

“Gods above…” Catherine’s eyes widened, “Dear-”

 

“Auntie, I promise. I am fine. Osriel helped me out and the Hunter is not a problem any more.” Moira said again.

 

Catherine let out a long sigh. She hugged her niece, asking the young woman to be careful. Catherine was going to have to warn some of her friends about the Hunter. Where there’s one there’s bound to be more. She turned to Osriel and smiled, “Thank you for protecting my girl again.”

 

“Does this mean I get a rent-free month?” Osriel asked with a small smile. It wasn’t going to happen, but it was still worth a shot.

 

“You know the deal. Do enough cases and it is.” Catherine said before humming to herself, “Maybe we’ll get you a new couch for your office. It’s high time you got a new one.” She gestured the old, worn couch that sat pitifully against the wall, “It looks like you dragged it in from the road.”

 

“Smells like it too.” Moira added.

 

Osriel looked over at the couch in question, which he had personally hauled into the office when he moved in.. It looked to be easily a hundred years old. It was tattered in places, haphazardly patched in others. There were bloodstains and bullet holes, and even a couple gashes from various blades or pieces of broken glass. He pursed his lips, “It’s a good couch.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Catherine shook her head and chuckled, “I’ll have one ordered and shipped over within the next few days max. By the way, what would you two like for breakfast?”

 

_ Pancakes. I’ve never had them but they sound amazing. _

 

“Oh, do we have mix for waffles or pancakes?” Moira grinned, holding out a set of folders for Osriel to take.

 

“I will grab some coffee later.” Osriel said as he picked up a file that Moira offered to him.

_ You dick. _

 

“Actually, I think I’ll have an apple or something.”

  
_ Oh, fuck you and your healthy food. _


	4. Children, I’m surrounded by Children

Breakfast had been filling for once which was a rare thing in the office. If Moira wasn’t eating everything when they did have food, there would just be nothing to eat. Osriel didn’t mind it so much.  He didn’t actually need to eat, but his flesh sometimes craved mortal things. It was just another problem for a celestial being trying walk the mortal plane.

 It was just as Moira’s Aunt was cleaning up the dishes that they heard a small knock on the door.  It didn’t catch Osriel by much of a surprise. He had left a little note on his office door if was not in the office for them to check upstairs.

He rose from the classical of dining furniture which Catherine was so fond of and walked down the short length of hall to her apartment door.  He found it odd that he couldn’t sense any magic on the other side. Most people that came looking for him were part of the folk community. Infact there had been very few instances in which a human had hired him for a job and it hadn’t been a trap or complete waste of his time.

He narrowed his eyes and looked through the the peep hole on the door just to make sure.  Outside stood a seemingly normal human, short red hair hangs swept to oneside, hiding a pair of nervous looking brown eyes as the man stares at the door handle waiting for some sign that there is someone on the other side.

 

‘Not one of yours are they?’ Osriel thought as he reached for the door knob.

 

_Wouldn’t know. Haven’t had a human errand boy in a long time. Not to mention I don’t really keep up with any demons seeing as you still haven’t dealt with that little pain in the ass-_

_  
_ “Who’s at the door?”  Moira asked from behind him.

 

“Don’t know.”  Osriel huffed as he tried to remove the demon’s invasive thoughts from his mind.  If the man outside was a hunter, it wouldn’t matter to Osriel. Hunters were easy to deal with.  Osriel took the handle and opened the door. Watching as the little man slowly turned his gaze up to see him.

 

“Can I help you?” Osriel asked as he watched the man sink back a bit.

 

“Y-Yes, you know a Mr Castillo. The Detective.” The man’s voice cracked as he spoke.

 

 _Poor kid’s going to have a heart attack_ , the demon laughed

 

“That would be me.” Osriel looked him over. The man wore a grey plaid jacket over a black hoodie, with jeans that looked to have seen much better days.  As far as Osriel could tell he wore no crosses or any other jewelry that could signify him as being a hunter. Perhaps he was just a normal human man looking for a good detective.

The man’s eyes seemed to light up with something Osriel only knew as hope. He immediately straightened up and smiled. “G-Good. I went to your office but you weren’t there. I’m in a bit of trouble and could use your help.”

 

“Then we better go to my office.” He shut the door behind him. Moira  didn’t need to tag along. Besides. He worked best alone.

 

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

 

It was a short walk down the stairs and into his office. In that span of that time however he had learned the man’s name to be Joshua Reed and he was a student at Prince University the local educational facility that was the reason Port Edward had become such a large city.

Once they were seated in Osriel’s office it was time to get down to business.  Why would a human come looking for his office?

 

“So what brings you to my office?”  Osriel had picked up a notebook and pen and began to scribble down some information.

 

“It’s about a friend. I think he’s been kidnapped.”  Joshua sat forward on his seat as he spoke. He seemed more comfortable sitting in the office than he had standing in the hall.

 

“That's a pretty serious accusation.  Why not go to the police? Why come to such a small time PI like myself?”

 

“There's parts about it that don’t add up, and I’m sure no cops going to give me the time of day. But you. I’d seen your sign before. Is it true?”  His lip quivered as he spoke, like he was looking for a miracle.   

 

“Is what true?” Osriel raised his brow.

 

“You deal with the occult. Castillo Occult Investigations. You deal with the things most people are too afraid to believe are true.”

 

“Yes, but what makes you think this is an occult case? How about you start from the beginning, When did your friend go missing?”

 

Joshua’s eye looked away for a minute as he thought, his gaze going distant as he tried to figure out what to say first.  Osriel wondered what this man had seen for him to come to an Occult investigator instead of going to the city.

“Okay so about a week ago my friend Shawn-He’s the guy that's missing- and I are down at Oak room on summers st.  We go there every other week to play pool with the bioengineering students. This week there had been some new guys there though, and they asked to get in on our game.  We just like playing pool, so we let them in.

Shawn just wipes the floor with them, of course they don’t take it well. One of them a big guy with blonde hair looks like he could be a boxer or something, demands a rematch. Calls Shawn out for cheating. It's like two in the morning though and the owner is about to kick us out, so we turn it down.  

 

Just outside though. The guys walk us into a corner. They start saying some things about Shawn, I thought they were just a couple of stupid kids that couldn’t handle getting their butt handed to them.  Then one of them pulls a gun and just shoots Shawn-”   He stopped then his hands going white as they gripped to his pale grey jeans. “I-I don’t know if they did something to him.  I am not sure what happened. It was like a fucking monster movie, but the next thing I know is Shawn ain’t Shawn. There is this big fucking wolf standing right next to me and it just charges at them. I was stunned for a bit. And watched as they rounded the corner. When I went after them they were gone though.  I thought I was maybe seeing shit or something. The next day I went looking for Shawn in our classes. Didn’t see him anywhere. It's been days since I heard from him.”  He stopped and looked Osriel in the eyes as if trying to find some sign that the man believed him.

“Do you remember any cars on the road?” Osriel scribbled some more information down, and then leaned forward.   A human seeing the supernatural was a very troubling thing to think about. The man must have believed at least some of it if he even bothered to come here.

 

“Yeah. I remember there was this black van on the road. Can’t remember any license plate though. Things were just happening too fast. Does that mean you can help me?” His brown eyes flashed up.

Osriel hadn’t been in a situation like this. Most times a human would come to him, they were either high or they had a mental ailment.  This human however seemed to be completely normal. If what he was saying was true, then it might mean there were more hunters in Port Edward then Osriel had initially believed. He thought of just putting his note book down and asking Mr. Reed to leave. Forsaking everything of the supernatural and calling him crazy for even bringing it up. But Osriel was an Occult Investigator, and Mr Reed was just as much a client as any Folk were.

“Do you believe what you saw?” He asked as he put down his pen. “PI’s aren’t cheap you know.”

 

Joshua seemed to freeze there, his eyes jumping to his feet and then back to Osriel’s. There was something a fear in them, but also a spark of curiosity.  “Shawn’s my best friend Mr Castillo. I wanna know he’s okay. I have some money put away it’ll be fine.”

 

“ Then yes, I’ll take this case. But you should know that will be 120$ a day plus expenses. I’ll need some way to contact you too.”  Osriel pulled a sheet from his desk drawer and slid it over to the man, handing him his pen.

 

Joshua nodded before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. He counted six twenties before throwing them on the desk.  He then signed the sheet and filled out a few of the boxes. “You can reach me with that number. If that’s not good enough, I work pretty much full time as a chef at Baltimore Grill.”  He handed Osriel the paperback and stood up. “I’ll be expecting some information by tomorrow.”

 

“I’ll let you know if I find anything.” Osriel nodded, and watched as Mr Reed left the room. Moira slipped in just behind him with a thin lipped grin that looked if someone painted a big ‘V’ on her face.    

 

She waited until the outer door shut and a few seconds after to speak, but Osriel could tell it had killed her to stay so quiet.

“Didn’t know he was friends with the Alistars. I hope Shawn’s mother hasn’t realized this yet or else we might be in a little bit of a pickle.”  Moira tucked a lock of rusty red hair behind her ear as she placed a mug of hot coffee in front of Osriel.

 

“What do you mean?”  Osriel picked it up and took a sip. The taste just about the closest thing to heavenly food as he could possibly get while on earth.

 

“We’ll she’s the Queen of the Centaurs court in Port Edward. A failing court if I might add.  If any of her court found out her son was missing. It might just start a war for her throne.”

 

“I thought Richard was the King of the court, when did he go?” Osriel blinked. His mind was really going.

 

“Richard hasn’t been king since the 40s. When was the last time you got out of this office?” Moira joked, taking a sip of her cup.

 

’ Apparently since the 40s.’ He thought as he rose from his seat and threw on his coat.

 

 _That honestly explains so much._         

 

“Where are we off to first? I thought we could go to the bar, maybe see if there was some video footage of the car or the fight-”  

 

“I work alone.” Osriel patted her head and went for the door. Although that was a good idea he didn’t need another person coming with him and getting in his way. Not to mention if there were hunters. It would be better to keep her at home with her Aunt who was more than capable at protecting her, “Maybe next time.”        

 

Moira crossed her arms and tried to push herself between him and the door. And put a hand up to show off her fire casting abilities. Osriel was none too impressed. He picked up his hat from the coat hook and grabbed his cane from beside the door.

 

“I’m coming with you whether you like it or not!”  She juggled the fire from one hand to another.

 

_Aw would you look at that. Take her with you. Why let such a little cutie down by making her stay home._

“Fine.”

 

“Yay!” Moira laughed. She collapsed the fire in her hands smothering it with just a thought before running to grab her coat and following Osriel out the door.

 

‘I’m surrounded by children’  Osriel thought as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.


	5. Reasons to Invest in a Good Lock

The first stop of the morning was the Oak Room. Osriel hoped that there might have been something caught on camera that would help their case. A bystander would have been helpful as well, though human bystanders were risks in and of themselves. Can’t have humans seeing too much of the Folk world. 

When they entered the establishment they were greeted with a relatively empty space and a tall, burly man behind the bar. A really tough looking son of a gun, for a human that is. He looked like he could easily run the place and be his own security. He greeted the pair with a simple nod and a “what’s your poison?”

 

Osriel flashed his badge at the man, who merely looked at him with a nonplused expression, “Detective Castillo. I am here to investigate a disturbance that occurred a few nights ago. Can you tell me anything about a group of men who were playing pool here? Two university boys and a couple of other men.”

 

The pub owner furrowed his brows in thought before looking back at the detective, “Are you talking about that Alistar boy and his buddy?”

“That is correct.” Osriel said, “Apparently they ran into a bit of a conflict with some gentlemen while playing a game of pool.”

 

The pub owner shook his head, “That Alistar boy is as stubborn as a mule. A couple of guys came in and challenged him and his friend to a game. Taunts were tossed back and forth, they played a round, Alistar won and started to lord it over the other two men. They started to get tough with each other and I told them to scram.”

 

“Anything else? Did they fight outside your establishment?” Osriel asked.

 

The pub owner’s eyes flicked to the right briefly, “Not that I saw.”

 

Osriel frowned, “Alistar’s gone missing. If you know something you better start talking.”

 

The pub owner bristled, “Listen here, Sherlock… This is my pub. You don’t come in here and start acting tough with me-”

 

Moira cleared her throat, “Sir?”

 

“What?” the pub owner snapped, staring her down.

 

Her irises gave off a faint glow, “I can see you want to tell us.” The pub owner’s brows knit as he struggled against the urge to open his mouth. He wanted nothing to do with this kind of trouble. Business was already rough enough. Moira narrowed her eyes and pressed further, “Speak.”

 

“I heard a gunshot, but by the time I stepped outside there was no one around.” the man replied.

 

“You didn’t call the police to report gunshots?” Osriel asked.

 

The pub owner shrugged, “The shots could have come from anywhere. I didn’t want to call in the cops for something that didn’t involve me or my business.”

 

Moira and Osriel exchanged looks. Something was not quite right. Moira locked eyes with the pub owner, her mind taking a firm hold on the man’s mind, “You don’t mind that we’re going to check the security feed.”

 

The man struggled for a few seconds before relenting, “Security room in at the back to the left. Left, not right. Got that?”

 

“Got what? We were never here. You never saw us.” Moira stated simply before strolling towards the back of the pub. They now had free reign to roam around the back of the pub. It would be like they never entered the pub, but that meant that if the owner caught them he might think they were intruders who snuck in.

 

As they slipped through the door leading to the back of the pub they saw two doors, one on the left side of the hall and one on the right. At the very end of the hall was a fire escape that was partially obstructed by a mop and bucket, as well as old cardboard boxes. Osriel grabbed the handle for the security room only to find it locked.

 

“We need a key.” Osriel frowned.

 

Moira smirked, “Why don’t you check the room on the right? Leave this one to me.”

 

“Don’t melt the lock.”

 

“Please. Have a little faith in my skills.”

 

Osriel pursed his lips before turning to check the door on the righthand side of the hall. It was locked, just like the security room. The glass had been painted over to look like a stained glass window, but the paint had flaked away in a few places giving Osriel just enough space to peer into the room to see what lay behind the door. He could faintly see a couple of tall, bushy plants, but not much else.

 

_ Oh, naughty naughty. _

 

Osriel rolled his eyes, turning to see if Moira was done with the door. He had turned halfway when he heard the security room door creak open. Moira stood by the open door with a proud look on her face. He could just make out a bobby pin and a mini screwdriver disappearing into her coat.

 

The Demon let out a teary, dramatic sniff in Osriel’s mind.  _ Our little deviant. So resourceful. So criminal. I am so proud. Give me a moment. I think I’m getting choked up. _

 

“Where did you learn to do that?” Osriel inquired as he walked into the security room and began pulling up recordings from the last few nights.

 

Moira grinned, “Internet.”

 

Osriel’s hands paused their dance over the keyboard as he gave her a short look, “Yeah. And I’m the Easter Bunny.”

 

Moira chuckled, a small dry smile tugging at her lips now, “Sorry, Osriel. I gotta keep that a secret. Confidentiality and all that.”

 

_ Professional little shit. I love it. Heheh! _

 

It took a few minutes, but eventually Osriel found the security recording that they were looking for. He rewinded the recording until Joshua and Shawn stepped out of the pub. They were confronted by the two men, a gun was drawn, Shawn was shot, he turned, and then chased the attackers around the corner. Osriel narrowed his eyes, Shawn changed extremely quickly. Either he had little control over his transformations or something in the bullet forced him to change and go wild. It couldn’t have been silver. Silver weakens beast folk, it doesn’t empower them.

 

Osriel glanced up as Moira inhaled sharply. He paused the recording and arched a brow, “Spot something?”

 

“That looked painful. Did you see his eyes when he changed?” She tapped a key, forcing the recording backwards until the part where Shawn transformed. She tapped his image, “Those are wild eyes. Beast folk usually only get that way when they are really pissed or going wild. This isn’t right. The Alistars are some of the most refined of the Beast folk. He should have more control than to change just because of a single gunshot. Hell, even if it was a silver bullet he shouldn’t have just changed like that.”

 

“Any idea what might have forced him to change?” Osriel asked.

 

Moira’s lips pressed into a flat line as she shook her head, “No… But I think I know someone who might be able to give us a hint.”

 

“Let’s see what we can find ourselves first. Then we will go to this source of yours.” Osriel said as he returned to the camera. 

 

Across the street from where Shawn was shot was a black van, but the angle it was parked at didn’t allow the camera to get a shot of the licence plates. Osriel fast forwarded the recording until, at a time stamp of a couple hours after the encounter, the two men from earlier were filmed getting into the van and driving off. As they drove off the back plate was visible to the security camera. Which would have been perfect, if the plates hadn’t been blank.

 

“Fucking…” Osriel growled. He sat back in the chair as he thought up  what to do next. His fingers drummed on the dark wood of the table. He got up after a moment, “I’m going to get the word out to a few reliable contacts, see if anyone’s seen any black vans with a blank plate or a wild werewolf.”

 

“I’ll scan around the block and see if I can find anything. When you get back we can do a proper sweep of the city.” Moira said, giving him a sharp look as he opened his mouth to protest, “You are not doing this one on your own. Whoever these bastards are, they are dangerous. Plus we have a potentially wild werewolf running around.” She started towards the door, not leaving any room for debate, “When we are done our sweep we can head to my friend and see what information they can give us.”

 

Osriel sat there as Moira left. He could hear her carefully moving boxes and other objects out of the way so she could sneak out via the fire exit. He let out a long, tired sigh. This was a fine mess of a case.

 

_ Wonder if the boy’s gone feral. That’d be interesting. _

 

Osriel clenched his teeth. Feral was the last thing they needed. It was bad enough that Shawn Alistar was running wild, but if he had gone feral… Osriel shuddered at the thought. Feral beast folk were seldom able to be saved. If the Prince was truly feral…

 

_ He’ll need to be put down.  _ The Demon spoke the words that Osriel was hesitant to acknowledge.

 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that… Or we might find ourselves fighting these hunters as well as the Centaur Court.” Osriel muttered.

 

***

 

It was well into the evening by the time Osriel and Moira had finished their sweep of the city. They’d wandered through every street and alleyway but found no trace of the black van. If it was still in the city, it might have been locked up in a garage away from prying eyes. But that was a big if. Osriel had gone to Lafayette to spread the word that he was looking for a black van with a blank rear plate, but so far there had been no sightings of the van or Shawn. The sun was starting to dip low in the sky and the moon was peeking over the horizon. Osriel took solace in the fact that at least it wasn’t a full moon yet. They had another day or so before that happened. If they were lucky they would be able to find Shawn before the full moon, a time when beast blood was at its most chaotic point.

 

“Come on. We need to talk to my friend and get some kind of information. We need to know what might be affecting Shawn and how we can help him… Maybe they can help us track down this van too.” Moira said as she started down the street.

 

“Who is this friend of yours exactly?” Osriel asked, following her down the street that led out of the city.

 

Moira bit her lip, “We’ve dealt with them before.”

 

Osriel simply arched a brow.

 

“Remember the Warlock that stole that Underworld Tome?”

 

Osriel stopped mid step and looked at Moira with a flat expression. He said nothing for a long couple of seconds before finally opening his mouth, “You are kidding me.”


End file.
